A path to damnation
by TheDevilWhitin
Summary: "She choose to live in sins, using on corpses as stairs to climb to her throne, to her death and she was okay with it. It was her own choice, heaven and death or damnation and revenge." The twisted story of a butler and his young master, between a girl who couldn't be a girl anymore and a demon who lost himself in his own web ll Fem!Ciel, genderbend ll Sebaciel, rated M for smut ll


_**PLOT : Viviane and Ciel Phantomhive are brother and sisters, prisonners of a cult. When Ciel dies, Viviane sells her soul to a demon in order to avenge herself and her family, using the identity of her twin brother. However, she'll always be a slave to her own power-hunger, too afraid to feel as weak as she had been in that awful cage. Thus begins a feral battle for domination, between her and her demonic butler.**_

 _ **DISCLAIMER : I DO NOT OWN KUROSHITSUJI**_

 _ **WARNING : This story contains mentions (subtle) of rape, smut, under-age sex, genderbending and well, deals with the devil**_

* * *

She doesn't know where she is. It's cold, it's dark and Ciel is curled up against her as they both try t get some sleep in that awful iron cage before the horrible masked men came again to take them away in _that_ room. She doesn't remember much right now, probably because of the constant fear clouding her mind. She's Viviane Phantomhive, her brother is next to her, she just turned twelve and she's cold. She's cold, the skin of her feet turn to red and her lips take on a scaringly blue tint but, no matter the cold, she has to be strong because she's a Phantomhive. She has to be stronger than the fear, mightier than the pain and bigger than her poor abused bones. She has to be strong but she can't and crystal tears run on her hollow cheeks in silent ugly sobs every night. Even after a month, the mark they burnt into her skin still hurts like the first day, burning as if to remind her of the hellish fire that consumed her whole night that awful night of December on her own birthday.

After a while, she finally lost the notion of time. All days had the same bitter taste and all the pain, humiliation and regret that built inside her heart turned into an anger stronger than anything frightening to see in a child's eyes. When they took her from her cage to mount her like an animal, the only tears she shed where those of pain at having her inside reaped until they bled. She never cried again out of sorrow, she didn't get much sleep either. The night Ciel, her twin, her other half and the only comforting presence she had left, was taken and never came back, she didn't even cry. She laid awake and schemed of the agony she'd inflict in all those vile creatures and their dirty paws that dared touch her and take her family away. All those whose who disrespected her would die slowly and painfully to pay for their crimes. And when Morpheus and Hypnos finally won her over, she dreamt of spilled guts filling the torture rooms and of eyes, sapphire blue eyes, shining with cruel joy.

When she woke up, she felt something warm and sticky underneath her. She felt groggy at first but managed to realize that she must have been drugged. She tried to raise her hand to her face to protect her eyes from the light that seemed to burn her retina only to finally understand that she was chained to what must have been the altar of the center room. The sticky substance is dark red. Blood. Blood. God help her. Viviane shook her arms and legs furiously, the chains clicking with every move, but her only reward was the mocking laughter of the dozen of masked and caped figures around her. Suddenly everything seems to blur and fasten, she sees a man in white raising his arm and screaming something. The crowd cheered and something shines in his hand. A blade descends towards her and her mind can barely register the pain of a stab through the heart before her vision turns white.

She's still on the altar and the chains still hug her wrists painfully but the room is brighter, frighteningly so. She was still on the altar but the voices were gone. No laughter. Nothing. Just silence, heavy, uncomfortable silence that is soon broken by the aggravating "clac-clac" of heels against the stone floor and a dark husky voice.

"Such anger in such a small body… You are quite the catch, little soul"

Darkness surrounds her and she has the fight the urge to cower in fear. The voice laughs and the sound is so beautiful and rich that it only fulfill her fear.

"So much pride and yet such purity…You truly are an enigma, aren't you, my dear?"

She mutters a profanity against the presence but is only rewarded with more of that sensually sinister laughter. The darkness answers her in a seductive whisper inside of her ear, as black feathers rain down on her. The darkness answers all the prayers that felt into God's deaf ears and sings of revenger and wrathful fire burning down her enemies and strength beyond measures and infernos fuelled by her anger. She's all alone and she's dying inside of a hole of despair and a spider thread falls down, a frail path to salvation. The thread falls and she takes it. The darkness whispers and she can only nod, offering herself and welcoming it. Suddenly she's back in the cage and the other children are there too. There are moving corpses, reaching for her and staring at her with their dead eyes as they scream in terror at something she can't see. Ciel is here too and he calls her name as tears run down his chalk white cheeks. She almost takes it but the voice is back, she feel its presence behind her. She turns her back on her brother and the world starts spinning as a clawed hand, too thick and dark to be human, pass between the bars to stop just in front of her. The whispers are heard once again, and she takes the monstrous hand that feels like rough leather, in her palm with all her might. Her left eye seems to burst on fire, pain taking over the rational part of her mind, before her world fades into shadows.

A sapphire eye and an amethyst one snapped open as Viviane gasps softly, and this time, the dark whispers come from her own mouth. "Kill them all. Turn them all to ashes". She condemns them with three little words before passing out and when she comes back to her senses there is blood everywhere, staining even the walls and corpses on the floor. She sits up with deliberately slow movements. No chains. She's still dizzy but she easily recognize the now familiar smell of death that hangs in the air. Viviane looks around, then at herself, only to notice that the pale skin of her naked body seemed to have turned red with all the blood she'd been laying in. A figure moves slightly in the shadow to make itself known and a man slowly march towards the light in a black, clean, pristine suit. He stops, their faces barely an inch or two away from each other, letting his hot breath ghost over her mouth and the smell of blood fill her nostrils. She knew he is the darkness and the whispers but she took the gloved hand he offered her, staining the white cloth crimson underneath her touch.

"Who are you?"

"I am merely who you want me to be"

"Then you shall be Sebastian Michaelis, my butler."

"And who is the mistress who I have the honor to serve?"

She stopped for a second and her mind went running wild. Could she ever be Viviane again? Will the world accept her as who she is? Will she accept herself after all of this? The young girl shakes her head and, as she took a deep breath, Viviane Phantomhive died.

Ciel raised her mismatched eyes toward the demon in servant clothing. Pride shines in her eyes, defiantly but it is soon replaced by cruel anger. Her wrath didn't stop raining down on earth and neither the dead nor the living who ever wronged her would ever be at peace until she avenged herself and cleansed herself of filth of the humiliation she had been put through. She stood as tall as she could in front of the demon, naked as the day she was born, her body painted with the dark ruby color of blood, so much like the predator's eyes. What an awfully beautiful picture must they have given and that moment! Alabaster skin, jewel eyes, shadow suits and such sin spiraling in the air that one could choke on it. Horror as it most innocent aesthetically pleasant state.

"I am the earl Lord Ciel Phantomhive. And there are no mistresses here, demon, only your master"

"You are a great liar, master"

She clicked her tongue at his amused tone.

"Don't be cheeky. Do you swear to never lie to me? To always protect me until my vengeance is complete and to obey my every command?"

"Yes, my Lord."

* * *

 _Two ruby eyes opened slowly in the middle of the night, the only thing lightening the room was the milky glow of the moon, shinning in all her mysterious glory and coldness, far away in the sky, almost mocking him. Sebastian looked at the clock standing alone on the naked wall of his room. Two in the morning. That's why he hated sleeping._

 _Sleep, a human necessity, so important that one could die from the lack of it, apparently. No matter how important it was to mortals, it was merely a luxury for his kin. He hadn't slept in a long time, preferring to pass his nights scheming and arranging the beautifully complicated design of the web of lies and manipulation he was slowly creating around his young master. He fell asleep that night, more out of curiosity than anything, but as soon as he closed his eyes, he remembered the reason behind his disdain of Morpheus' kingdom. He was plagued, his dreamless sleep had become rotten, slowly eaten by numerous nightmares all revolving around one event._

 _He wished he had a name, to hear someone whisper it from times to times, having a stable identity that he could cling to in the mere second of absolute terror he almost drowns in at every waking. He was a name-less entity and only had the name his master choose for him. A dog's name, how…irritating? Amusing? Degrading? Maybe all of them at once. He wished someone would call him by any name at that instant, either Sebastian or any other than his aliases both demonic and human._

 _Sleeping, for the immortal, meant remembering. Remembering the ghosts of his past, that came to taunt him once more, slowly trailing their claws up and down his back with cruel amusement. He felt like a prey every time he woke up and that was the most humiliating feeling he had ever known in his entire existence. He would remain eyes open the whole night otherwise he might see it all over again._

 _Dirty blonde hair falling around in a hallo, laughter than sounded like thousands of silver bells, creating a single harmonious and unique music and a smile brighter than the sun itself. Amalaho had been a young angel at the time, a being shaped in light, kindness and beauty in its purest form, loyalty was engraved in his very bones toward his God, his master. He never succumbed to ambition like Lucifer and his followers, he stayed faithful and strong, rejecting temptation. It was something else that had triggered his fall, not a sin, but love. He was hopelessly in love with the first woman, Eve, he wanted her to notice him, to love him, to kiss him like her mate. He wanted to hold her close to his chest and feel her heartbeat on his skin. But as long as she had been Adam's wife, he wouldn't be able to do it. Amalaho had to get rid of Man, who could love Eve in the purest way to exist if not him, an angel? He took the form of a beautiful golden snake, promising the Woman a thousand wonders if her husband ever ate the tenting apple on the highest branch of the tree. He was so pleased with himself, he was ready to finally live. But Eve ate the apple too and was cast out of Eden. She was on the land of the mortals and of suffering and he, the being of light had been thrown in the pits of Satan's burning kingdom._

 _An angel can love so many times and his tears are most beautiful source of power in the universe, but a demon only love once, and when he did, it was the most spectacular thing in all of times and space. The sun and the moon colliding in a spectacular masterpiece of stardust and light. That's why demon's seemed so heartless, well at least the older ones, they guarded their hearts very preciously. Especially Name-Less, Mephistopheles, Raven, Sebastian or whatever he was now called, he had one shot at love and he didn't even want it, it had only brought him pain as an angle and a demon's heartbreak was even worse, and if not controlled, could destroy the demon himself._

 _This knowledge of love was rather uncommon for demons and he used it to his advantage, manipulating the heart of his master and mistresses to his every will had given him the most taste-pleasing soul you could find. He had soon understood that he wasn't Amalaho anymore, he was a monster. And if he was to be a monster, he might as well be good at it._

* * *

Viviane- no, Ciel can't believe she got dragged at a ball once again. She hated social gathering and their games of sugar coated insults and fake smiles with a burning passion but sadly for her, and as her butler liked to remind her, they were an obligation linked to her title of earl. So here she was, almost hiding herself away from the crowd and their judgmental eyes, predators longing for juicy gossip.

Sadly for the young cross-dresser, a big ball of blue frills and white lace ran toward her before taking her in a bone crushing hug. She lifted her sol visible eye to meet the emerald ones of her cousin, Elizabeth who smiled at her with that usual flash of pearly white teeth and happiness. That girl could probably give life to a cemetery just by smiling, imagined Ciel fondly before shaking away those thoughts. No attachment, no gentleness, she was going to die soon anyway.

After about half an hour of bickering, Lizzie managed to convince the brunette to dance with her and literally dragged her in the middle of the room with the other dancers. Ciel placed her small pale hand on the blonde waist and managed to move a few steps without embarrassing herself. She led the dance clumsily, a frown never leaving her face, brows furrowed in concentration and her gaze was locked to her feet trying to avoid the inevitable fall that would end the dance. Maybe, if she hadn't been Viviane or Ciel, if she hadn't be the earl, she'd have been able to dance but she was who she was, who she choose to be and fell without any trace of grace flat on her butt and every mischief filled eye in the room turned in her direction as her face and ears turned an embarrassing cherry red. She hated that damn clumsiness that hit her when she tried to dance, it reminded her of the few times she tried to give a punch and failed to hurt her adversary. Everybody was stronger than her, even Lizzie as she proved it by killing zombies (fucking zombies) on the cruise boat. Lizzie became strong, powerful Elizabeth and she was still the lonely kid who couldn't do a thing without her butler despite her intellect. And she hated it more than anything. She silently got up and apologized to Lizzie before leaving the ballroom with all the dignity she managed to find inside of herself, lifting her chin up with her signature aristocratic arrogance.

As her steps were taking her outside without really noticing it, she stopped a minute in front of a large Versailles styled mirror and stared with a blank eye at her reflection. She passed a fragile looking hand in her short bluish hair, her head titled to the side like a sign of her deep thinking. For a moment, she tried to picture herself in Elizabeth dress, the color seemed too happy and the frills maybe a bit too numerous but she couldn't get rid of this mental image she had. She'd be waltzing graciously like her Aunt Ann, passing from partner to partner until the dead of the night, she'd be smiling brightly and charmingly with ribbons and jewels in her long slightly curled hair and laugh a laughter that sounded like a hundred silver bells. She'd be her mother. It's kind of a habit she had since her parents' death: picturing them in her place. Usually Ciel saw her father, standing tall and confident with his mischievous smirk in his well-tailored suit, after all he was the Earl and that's who she became but now, she wanted to see her mom softness and feminity, it was silly, she was well aware of it, yet, she couldn't tell it was wrong; a part of her would always regret getting rid of Viviane and the life she could have had with her. She'd be a shining star in every ballroom, a beautiful flower with all the sweetness in the world concentrated in her pearly smile. It's just a little girl's dream and she is Ciel, she's a boy becoming a man and she's the Earl. She lives only for the queen and her own little vendetta and deep inside she's relieved. Everyone should have a purpose, Sebastian had one, Aunt Ann had one, her servants, even Lizzie! A purpose was the only thing keeping her demons at bay and allowing her to breath without crying every minute of pathetic stolen life. A purpose was what the Earl offered her that was, she realized, the real reason of her choice of identity. She'll just keep wearing shorts and suits and humiliating herself in ballrooms. That's who the Earl is, that's who she is now. A smirk take a strangely natural place on her face as she get away from the mirror.

She slowly exit the large cream colored house, the light escaping the windows brightening the night and walks towards the large shadow of her butler who didn't seem to have moved an inch since she left. The demon's red eyes stopped on her petite frame for a second, watching her indescribably for barely a second. She didn't really pay him attention, or at least pretended to, and he took her delicate hand in his larger gloved one, helping her inside the carriage. To a stranger, everything would have seemed proper, but if anyone paid more attention to the way her hand fitted in his, the way they eyes connected briefly and the slight shift in her heart beat, they'd knew nothing was conventional or proper in their relationship. He smiled that horrible polite smile of his when she sat down and closed the door but she didn't miss the knowing amusement and the smugness in his gaze. Somehow, he knew what happened in the ballroom. She didn't speak to him for the whole rid, grumpily looking outside at the darkness enveloped forest around the road, clad in her mutism until they arrived at her manor and didn't open her mouth for anything but an order and immediately went to bed.

For the first time in a while, she wasn't able to sleep. Sure, she wasn't a heavy sleeper and was always woken up by nightmares but _starting_ to sleep was never the problem. She silently got up, realizing she was still wearing her rings and without bothering to take her eye patch. She was about to call Sebastian, feeling in the mood for a little cake or what was left of it anyway but then, she decided to do something she'll deny shamefully in the morning. Ciel took a deep breath and started to dance with an imaginary partner, trying to lead "her" without falling on the floor. She swayed clumsily until she heard a dark low chuckle behind her. The demon, (of course it was him, who else?) put his hand on her shoulder a little too lightly for it to be believable and took her hand in his, eyes flashing fuchsia and bearing a smirk so arrogant she only ever saw it on her father's face. He let go of her shoulders and kneeled in front her, looking directly in her mismatched eyes and whispered in that silkily and husky voice of his:

"Would you honor me with a dance, Master?"

He never called her "mistress" and that's probably his respect for her chosen mask that made Ciel allow herself to put her warm porcelain like hand in his. He closed his fingers around it trapping it in his wed in the fashion of a spider web. He got up slowly, placing his free hand on her waist. Her brows furrowed, wasn't she supposed to learn how to lead the dance? She was about to vocalize her question but a single look from him made her close her parted lips. _Damn demon_ , she thought. The wind blew softly, pushing apart the curtains ever so slightly allowing the milky glow of the moon to enlighten the room as the demon slowly began to dance with Ciel. There was no music, only a strange, non-hearable rhythm as the earl was getting swayed and for once she felt as if she was the woman she could have been without all this hatred building itself in her heart. As her hand tightened its hold on Sebastian shoulder, she lowered her gaze on her feet afraid of making a fool out of herself once again. The demon lifted her chin up and for a full minute she got lost in those cat-like orbs of his and for the first time in forever, she felt alive. She could almost hear her own heart beating, pumping blood, filling the silence of the room. She tore her gaze away from her butler's and like always it fell on the mirror. She was her parents. She saw Vincent Phantomhive swaying his beautiful wife in the dark, alone in their room. The only problem was that for once she didn't saw herself as her father, no. In that moment she was Rachel Phantomhive. She loved her mother dearly but being her meant she was the lady, not the earl. She couldn't not be the earl, it was just impossible. The dream took end, crushed by reality and she felt the demon's hand holding her chin disgustingly, she felt his eyes on her, looking at her as if she was the lamb and he was the wolf. Her hand swiftly left his, slapping brutally across the face, rings hitting flesh. He smiled at her and her eye twitched.

"Don't you ever touch me like that again! I'm your master not some foolish little girl looking for a charming prince. Keeping your disgusting hands to yourself, Sebastian and get out of my sight!"

Her voice was cold, in a frozen dreadful anger. Oh how he wished she was as strong physically as she was mentally, that would be so fun. His little mistress would soon be ready for his harvest anyway. He just had to prepare her a little more, after all she was almost already his little plaything. He had full control over her, even if she thought otherwise, apart from a few surprises and before the time has come for him to claim her soul and devour every piece of her, Viviane Ciel Phantomhive will be reduced to a simple puppet on a shelf screaming for him to choose her.

He didn't smirk, only smiled politely and bowed, the mask of the perfect servant falling in its place once again before leaving the room.

" _Yes, my lord"_

* * *

As usual, Sebastian entered the master bedroom of the Phantomhive manor, silently pushing a trail with his employer's breakfast on it. He walked with some kind of feline grace to the window, his steps never betraying him with any noise and parted the curtains, letting the sunlight enlighten the dark room, revealing a mop of bluish hair under the bed's white sheets. When the first groans of the half-asleep earl broke the silence, the butler started filling a cup of tea. The young girl slowly rose, now sitting on the bed and yawned, stretching her pale arms above her head in cat-like fashion that got Sebastian fascinated for half a second. She took the cup of tea after sleepily rubbing her eyes and drank a few sip of the hot beverage. Her butler stood next to the bed, hands clad behind his back in his eternal perfectly tailored black uniform, watching as if waiting for his next order but nothing in hell and heaven prepared him for this. Ciel closed her eyes, savoring the tea but stopped a moment, finally addressing him.

"Sebastian. I want to go to church"

To say that the butler was surprised would be a euphemism. His master didn't have a soul to save for she had sold it, she also didn't have any mission for the queen. To conclude, she had absolutely no business in a church but the demon knew better than to question Ciel or voice his hypothesis and simply nodded, as polite as ever, leaving the room to prepare the carriage. The young earl was left alone to her thinking while eating her breakfast, she wished that going to such a place would help her with questions begging for answers she had locked inside her mind.

Dutiful like a clockwork, Sebastian appeared as soon as she finished her meal, putting the plates away before coming back to her as she rose, standing on her bed. The demon slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her porcelain like skin. She stopped blushing at the undressing a while ago but she'll never get rid of the horrible sensation of being exposed in her most vulnerable state in front of a wolf. Said wolf's face stayed blank as the white fabric fell on the sheets, leaving the earl naked in front of him. He helped her wrap a cloth around her juvenile, growing chest, his long slender fingers grazing her delicate skin, making a shiver run down her spine at their coldness. Of course he noticed the shift in Ciel's heartbeat and he had to admit he was impressed to see such self-control in a human so young. Much to the earl's anger, the demon smirked lightly as he helped her in her other clothes. He kneeled at the feet of the bed, tying her shoelaces, never breaking the silence once. He then proceeded to tie the her eye patch around her head, hiding his mark, the proof that she was totally his and no one else's away from the world and left without a word to wait for her in front of the carriage.

She was colder than usual, he noted. Her voice was icy, like the snow that is oh, so similar to her skin, as she gave him her orders. Orders. She didn't open her mouth for something else. Sebastian wasn't a love-struck human who would miss her voice and compliment the way it sounded, no, but he couldn't deny that he was surprised. He actually enjoyed their small talks, it put him in position of power, even when she addressed him like a dog, a low servant, staring at him as if he was the scum of the earth, and he knew that she was well aware of her condition: a meal. He was the predator and she was the prey. To be honest, she was amusing and interesting, but she was still a lamb in wolf clothing.

She sat alone on a bench, as the light, colored by the artistic stained glass of the church, fell on her innocent looking form. She sat alone for a long moment, hours probably, without saying a word. She didn't pray, she turned her back on god just like he turned his to her, but she missed this feeling of purity. No, she needed it, as stupid as it may sound. She choose to live in sins, using on corpses as stairs to climb to her throne, to her death and she was okay with it. It was her own choice, heaven and death or damnation and revenge. She needed that feeling of purity because something was happening, something she couldn't quite qualify as a sin. Something that made her whole being ache and her heart flutter. She hated the weakness it brought her, the disgusting happiness she felt every time her eyes landed on him and the feeling of her racing heart. As the time passed, she came to realize, like a dagger in her back, violently and unsuspectedly, that she was in love with her demonic servant. The problem wasn't the contract, it was just obvious that it was another scheme from his unholy hands to make her fall on her knees like the good little puppet she was. Her arrogance, her fatal flaw, was kicked right in the stomach when she understood her feelings towards the butler, her pride was wounded when she understood that she lost an important battle to him. But the worst was that she wasn't that saddened by her loss. She just stayed on her bench, eyelids closed, hands on her lap and bangs falling on her face.

Suddenly, she heard his footsteps echoing behind her, in a slow, steady rhythm. She had to admit her slight surprise. Never had she imagined him in a church of all places. He sat next to her gracefully, looking at her from under his dark lashes, without any sound leaving his slightly parted and defined lips. Ciel raised her gaze from her lap, locking it on the lanky priest until he left the building, leaving the demon and the noble alone between the stone walls, the silence never broke.

"Master, it's getting late. We should head back to the manor"

The young girl rolled her only visible blue eye, getting up and heading to a statue of St. Maria, watching it with false interest. She didn't answer the servant, seeming colder than usual and hiding her discomfort at his piercing eyes, a shade closer to blood than maroon. The butler followed her, and the brunette instinctively took a step back. Sebastian, at this very moment, looked like a pagan god of disaster waiting for a sacrifice to ease his bloodlust, the last lights of day playing on his pale strangely aristocratic face, creating shadows that made him look even more intimidating. Frightened and angered by the flash of smugness in the demon's red orbs, Ciel stepped back once again, trying to win back her confidence and bark an order or an insult at him but a knot seemed to form in her throat, preventing her from speaking as she looked at him, eyes burning with outrage at this demeanor that reminded her of the vibrant contrast between her weakness and her servant's strength, which seemed to amuse him greatly.

Sebastian strong frame towered over his master's smaller one. As their eyes locked, the noble felt her knees go weak but managed to keep on a poker face. She let her mind wander, imagining for a brief instant what it'd have happened if she wasn't the earl and his wasn't the loyal, shadow-like butler. If they only were Viviane and the demon, she tough bitterly, it would take away the pride and dignity that stopped her from accepting and acting upon her feelings for him. She'd crawl at his feet and worship his very being like a dog, praying at the shrine of lies and sins, offering her blood, her mind, her fortune for a simple praise. She'd be a helpless fool, blinded by love, accepting every reward and every punishment, every kiss and every betrayal, everything as long as it came from him.

But thankfully, Viviane, Ciel and the earl were one the same, three complementing parts of the same soul she sold, and hopefully they'll never be reduced to this pitiful state, enslaved by a toxic love and a dangerous lover. She tripped on a foreign object, and fell on the floor, with a small yelp (that she'll deny later thank you very much) of surprise and shame. Sebastian kneeled on the floor and with a horrific gentleness, took away her shoe and sock, placing her foot in his gloved, large hand, examining it, pretending to feel concerned.

"My, my, young Master, you really are clumsy today, aren't you?"

"Shut your mouth, you bastard" she grimaced, wounded in her pride

The butler smirked lightly, arrogance and mockery only slightly visible behind a mask of collected politeness, before slowly and delicately kissing her pale, slender ankle, making her only visible sapphire eye widen in surprise. Sebastian raised his gaze, looking at Ciel with half lidded eyes, looking like sin itself and lips still hot on her immaculate skin and the young girl couldn't help but shiver at his touch. His hand crawled on her leg, tempting and hot even with the glove on, almost burning her as it climbed up to her thigh, seeming to leave a trail of fire on its way under her boy's shorts as the fourteen-years-old's breath itched and her face reddened from embracement of such intimacy

" _Sebastian…"_ she whispered as his lips ghosted over hers, his warm breath on her face and his hand climbing always high on her creamy thigh, tracing arabesque like patterns with his pointer finger, letting a pleasant shiver run down her spine.

"Do you enjoy it, Master? Taking your revenge from our Father by disrespecting him in one of his most sacred place?"

He cocked his head lightly to the side, eyes filled with mischief and a shit-eating grin decorating his mouth. He ran the thumb of his free hand on Ciel's plumb bottom lips, as she closed her eye at the feeling of his hand approaching not god's but her most sacred place agonizingly slow, caressing her and teasing her just above her underwear. If didn't make this big mistake, she'd probably would have gone to the final line with him, offering not only her soul to him but also her body, on this shrine but life is just a mishmash of events and decisions and his were to crash his lips on her for a slothful, sensual kiss that started getting more demanding and lascivious kiss, with her finger's running through his dark locks and his hands on her hips in a fervent embrace. Her eye snapped open, passion all gone and replaced by raw wintry anger as she pushed him away. Ciel was truly a sight to see with her cheeks tainted scarlet by the steamy kiss and her pupils dilated in arousal. Yet, that frigid azure orb of her only showed anger, even if the demon could see the suppressed frustration and neediness behind it, as she barked at him, regaining control over the situation.

"We're going back home. Now."

Sebastian's thoughts while he helped his master put her shoe back one before getting in the carriage was centered on that kiss. He was a step closer to fully making the earl Phantomhive his plaything.

The Earl Phantomhive wasn't a patient person, he had that in common with the twins Ciel and Viviane. But the earl, this new persona, had many particularities in the likes of pride, her most fatal sin.

She had been feeling quite angered for a long time now, mostly by herself. Ciel had always been clever and she was quick to understand that she was already drowning in her sins and the blood of her victims. She was the queen of the chess game and she had a king, whoever he/she may be, to take down at the other end of the board. She was playing her part, moving while her knight eliminated the pawns who had, by her standards, lost their usefulness in the game of her revenge. Yet, the demon continued to tempt her, trying to take away the last piece of innocence she had left from her. And what angered her, sadly, weren't his actions, but her response to them. She only saved herself at the last second each and every time and she could feel his mocking gaze on her all the time. She hated it.

She hated it. She hated him. She hated his touch and the craving it had created. She hated the smoothness of his voice and the way it purred her title. She hated the way his upper lip moved a bit more than the other one when he muttered against her skin. She hated her way his gloved feeling would travel on her still girlish figure when he dressed her in the morning. She hated the coldness behind his smile and the awfully beautiful way his bangs fell on his elegant forehead.

She mostly hated the feeling blooming inside her juvenile heart at the mere thought of him. She couldn't quite bring herself to comprehend how a being of pure sin could create such holy and pure feelings in her. How the sol memory of his intense blood gaze on her could make Ciel blush under the cover of darkness and her sheets. She was furious, that monster was trying to play her, slowly making her even more of a prey but she was done being defenseless, done being at his mercy. She was the real player of the game and she wouldn't let him win so easily, she still had a few tricks up her sleeves.

* * *

Ciel was in her study, papers scattered on the oak desk but her single ultramarine eye is concentrated on the man in front of her. He's standing tall, almost arrogantly so, in front of her in his perfectly ironed uniform. He's a servant yet, as always she feels like he's the one in charge. _It has always been the case_ , mutters a voice in the back of her mind; she has always been a puppet between his gloved hands, a prideful, rebellious one, yes, but a puppet nonetheless. She's not even of sure who's getting manipulated, was it Viviane? Was it Ciel? Was it the Earl?

Death has plagued her thoughts since that awful day, when her manor was burnt down to the ground and her parents passed away, leaving her alone. She had mostly imagined her own death, at the hand of the demon, trying to picture the way he'd take her corrupted soul and devour it voraciously. In her sleep, she'd never be at peace, waking up with images of his sharp canines tearing her throat out or clawed hands ripping her stomach to shreds and leaving her to bleed on the cold hard unforgiving ground. Would her end be as pitiful as her life truly was behind her mask of arrogance and wealth?

Her eye rose to meet the deep red ones of her butler, who was patiently waited for her to explain the reason of her call. Maybe it was Ciel's dislike for him and his attitude that spoke, but she could practically smell the smugness coming off him in silent powerful waves. Sometimes she wondered how a being so mighty and terrifying could bow to a simple human and accept the collar she put on him and the dog like treatment she gave him in order to feel some kind of superiority, satisfy her dark desire of control and forget that she was the damned one there. She kept staring at the servant before asking without a hint of the hesitation she truly felt.

"Do demons have feelings? Are you able to feel what we call positive emotions?"

He kept a polite faced but she could practically hear the smirk he was trying to hide in his voice, making her sol visible eye twitch with irritation. The nobleman (woman?) didn't say anything, judging the sharp warning look she gave him enough.

"We do, my lord. We simply choose not to, feelings are bothersome especially for creatures such as us who are supposed to represent everything you _should_ loathe. However, I can assure you that we are perfectly capable of understanding their complexity."

" _Even love?"_

Ciel could swear that she saw the corners of his mouth turn up. He was clearly restraining the blissful smile of victory that threatened to break his mask.

" _Even love, master"_

She groaned internally at his silent acknowledging of her own shameful feelings towards him. The bastard probably shaped that blissful pain in her heart on purpose. She wanted to scream and slap him again and again, cursing at him for being so horribly perfect, darkly arousing and portraying every obscure fantasy she may have had. How she wished she could make him feel the way she does, the shame, the frustration, the pain and the anger. Everything those dark bloodlike eyes made her feel. She wanted him to taste the burning ache in her mind, in her core that she had to bear every day. And suddenly, an idea struck her like lightning: she could. She may be the prey since the very beginning of their contract but, now, she was also his master. She couldn't get rid of the strings he attached to her, toying with her fragile mind, but she could place a leash around the collard she knotted on his throat.

" _Sebastian, I order you to fall in love…with me."_

This time, the young noble was the one radiating smugness, looking amused by the way Sebastian's eyes widened ever so slightly at her unexpected command. He bowed at the waist, a hand on his heart, and Ciel almost smiled at the wonderful bitterness and hatred that emanated from him for a second.

" _ **Yes, my lord."**_

* * *

He hates her. He really does, and the worst thing about it is that Ciel does not even care. She selfishly enjoys his affections, enjoys tormenting him by accepting them or turning them down when she feels like it. She gloats in the most elegant and subtle manner she could: revenge was sweet on her taste buds and Sebastian knew how much she loved sweets.

Ciel is far from stupid, she knows that the love he feels is faker than a ton of fools' gold. She notices the way his eyes darken before he tells her anything, she can taste the poison lightly coating his words as he whispers in her ear. She was a smart girl; she is an even smarter boy. She is the Earl after all. But once again, it feels too good to allow herself to understand what is happening, she merely push it in the back of her mind, eager for his touch and delighted by the humiliating position she put him in.

Sebastian still dressed her after all these years, but after her command, his hands felt somewhat different on her skin. She could now feel the thick tension between them as he carefully helped her wrap her chest in bandages and the eyes roaming her form with a newfound and unsatisfied hunger. After all, each night, as he helped her disrobe, Ciel ignored the silent question hovering in the air above them. Was he allowed to take her to bed? The answer was always negative and she swore she could see a strange mix of anger and relief in his eyes for half a second.

However, this night was different, the air felt different around her and everything seemed duller than it used to be. Everything except the black-clad butler following her in her room. He shut the door, a brief "click" sound disturbing the almost solemn silence.

Ciel sat in front of her mother's vanity, a piece of furniture she could not bear to throw away when she took her parent's bedroom. Sebastian followed her silently and unlaced her eye patch, baring her eye in all its purple glory. Ciel could not help but think that she looked powerful, that she looked nothing like Viviane. She looked like Vincent and it broke her heart and filled her with pride at the same time. Carefully brushing the grayish mane on her head, Sebastian put her hair back in place. The short curls finally undisturbed by the string holding her mask, shielding the world form the ugly truth behind her missing eye and her butler.

The young girl barely had the time to register the sound of the hairbrush being calmly put down on the wood of the vanity before a lone finger made its way down the curve of her nape. Mismatched eyes rose to meet red ones as she shot a blank look at the man – who was she kidding? He was no man – behind her.

She let him go on, reveling in the feeling of silk gloves and cold hands on her skin. The soft strokes of his finger slowly moving to the side of her neck and her chin. She titled it up slightly, allowing him access to her throat like a reward for an obedient puppy who learnt a new trick. As his finger drew random patterns on her skin, her eyes never left his, pupils filled with an emotion Sebastian couldn't quite catch the meaning of. Slowly, but without an ounce of hesitation, Ciel put her hand on the butler's one and lowered it, just above her chest. He followed the movement like a hawk, eying his master carefully.

"I have an itch, Sebastian. You should relieve me of it."

He smirked lightly for a second, putting more pressure on his hand and leaning forward to whisper in her ear, almost purring.

"Of course, Master. I live to serve you, after all."

He haltingly undid the first few buttons of her dress shirt, slowly revealing the bandages confining her modest bosom. Her eyes locked on the mirror's smooth surface as she watched him unwaveringly. Then, in a flash of silver, she saw the blade of his trademark knife appear from his sleeve. She drew in a breath, as the cold, cruel metal made its way on her skin, leaving goosebumps in its trail. Sebastian let it rest in the hollow of her throat for a second – oh my, she was almost certain that he would avenge himself at that instant because no soul was worth the humiliation she made him live. She felt like a piece of meat underneath the blade, like he could devour her in an instant, leaving nothing but bones behind him. Suddenly, it slid on her chest, cutting the bandages underneath and freeing her young chest from its confines.

Sebastian's hand left her form, as he rose it to his face and slightly bit on his finger and leisurely pulled the white fabric of his glove away. As his now bare skin touched hers, Ciel could not help but feel like a marble statue, cold, hard, and perfect in a terrifying way, was touching her. His frozen fingers traced small circles on her breast, around her nipples that rose at the contact.

He smirked, cocky enough to let her see his satisfaction but he did not stop teasing her.

"Aren't you eager, my lord?"

She shot him a look, eyes narrowed in anger and cheeks flushed by arousal and shame. He had the audacity of chuckling before taking his other glove off and lightly pulling on her high-beams with one hand, earning a whimper from her, while the other unbuttoned the rest of her shirt, letting the fabric fall on the floor. He pressed his cold, cold lips on the side of her neck, kissing and sucking at the flesh offered to him.

Agonizingly slow, one of his now barred hands made its way down her torso, sending shiver down her spine at the omnipresent contrast of their bodies' temperatures and the disgusting intimacy of it. The hand crept inside of her shorts, underneath her underwear and she bit down a gasp. The butler's breath was surprisingly hot on the back of Ciel's neck. Delicate fingers soon began to move running up and down her slit and for a second, she was afraid. She was, truly, but she should not have been, she was no longer Viviane and he was not her masked captors. She was almighty, now, her word was the command of the powerful beast behind her and she would never be weak again. She tore away from the delicious feeling of fingers probing her entrance and turned her head to look at the real Sebastian –not the reflection.

"Undress yourself, Sebastian"

He seemed taken aback by her order but he merely nodded and took a few step back. Ciel turned around, crossing her legs as the smooth alabaster skin of her servant appeared, gradually, under his fingers –the fingers that were almost inside of her. First the waistcoat, then the shirt and as the pale, black-nailed, hands traveled south to unbuckle his belt, she raised her own, to halt him.

"Turn around"

Sebastian pursed his lips, the helplessness of this situation aggravating him to no end. Here he was, ageless creature of sin, forced to obey the kinky orders of a young girl, of a meal. Sure, he thought of taking her to bed before, but never like that. He always believed he would have her whimpering underneath him, small, weak, and satisfied. He dreamt of ravishing her young body even before those awful feelings came to haunt him. He never felt so exposed in his immortal life… He felt nauseous when he sensed her eyes traveling up his back, on the disgusting scars that littered his skin like white worms. There was only ugliness where before, powerful and majestic wings stood proudly. Ciel did not say anything. He did not know if it was a good thing or not. He resumed his undressing anyway.

The earl got up from her seat and made her way to him, embracing his form from behind, pressing her chest to his back and her pelvis sculptural curves of his low back. One hand gently stroking his stomach before lowering itself on his manhood who was, in Sebastian's opinion at least, shamefully hard. It was her turn to smirk. She got on her tiptoes, to reach in a certain measure, his ear. For a second, the tables seemed to have turned; her voice a delicious poison in his ear and her skin silk on his as she stroked him.

"I am not the only eager one, I see…Tell me Sebastian, you really seem to enjoy being humiliated, don't you?"

He turned around, his hands sneaking around her neck viciously, eyes narrowed in anger. However, the stroking never stopped and she merely smiled, the little minx. She knew that he knew who was in charge, that night. He bit his lower lip, holding back a moan as her pace quickened.

"Tell me, how does it feel knowing that you can't disobey your own prey? Are you ashamed, Sebastian? Are you ashamed, as you made me feel for so long? "

Yesyesyesyesyes… He was more than that; he was distressed. His breath itched and he let a low, feral groan escape his lips as he bucked in her palm. He wanted to grab her and use her, please her all through the night and leave her broken and bruised in the sheets.

"Don't you dare come before me, Sebastian…"

Suddenly, the delicious feeling died down an instant as she took away her hand before his climax and her lips were on his. He tasted of wine and smoke, intoxicating and strong. Ciel lightly licked her lips before breaking the silence, in a breath.

" _Touch me"_

He almost laughed in delight and before she even realized it, she was on the bed with him hovering atop of her. Trapping her with his limbs.

"Yes, my lord."

She heard his laugh, filling the silence of the room, soon followed by the sound of ripped cloth. She gasped when she felt his cold nose make contact with her wet folds, breathing in her scent. He looked up at her, from between her thighs, and she was taken aback, by the cocktail of emotions in his blood-colored pupils startled her. Love. Anger. Resentment. Fascination. Sadly, she lost all focus as his tongue darted out, tasting her like fine cuisine.

Her hands flew to his dark locks, as his wet muscle gave a long lick along her slit. After that, everything became a mess of hazy thoughts and lustful moans as her head moved on the pillow, one hand fisting the sheets while the other stayed in Sebastian's hair. The knot in the bottom of her stomach suddenly came undone between her legs, covering the demon's lips. Smooth fingers soon made their way inside of her center, scissoring and loosening the tight muscles to prepare her for what was to come, and Ciel bucked her hips instinctively, to Sebastian's pleasure. He got up, kissing her sloppily and lazily and the young girl could taste herself on his lips and feel his hardness against the moistness of her.

"Do you want more, Master? Do you want to feel me inside you tight little cunt? Do you want me to fill you to the brim? You only have to say the words, for it to happen…We'll leave the begging for the second round…"

Sebastian expected many things, it was true. However, he did not expect his master to slap him so soon after her release. Her eyes looked like blue, unnatural flames and he was soon trapped in her inferno. Ciel pushed him from her and he complied, letting her do as she pleased. She startled him, her pelvic hovering above his and he looked up at her for once. She smiled. Childlike and powerful at the same time. Then, she let herself fall, impaling herself on his manhood, a glorious moan escaping her lips.

"Do you enjoy me like that, Sebastian? Do you love me like that?"

She put her hands on her chest, looking for support and slowly rode him, without any hast. Her short, soft curls glued to her forehead with sweat.

"Do you love me?"

His breath caught in his throat as he realized that no punishment, no war, no torture hurt him more than the love he was obliged –fully or partially he did not know –to give her. He hissed his answer as her pace started to quicken.

" _Yes, yes, yes…"_

She threw her head back, laughing and moaning at the same time and Sebastian's palms flew to her hips, trying to regain some control over the pace, to make her move faster because _ohmyhewouldestroythatlittleballofnerves_ …

The sound of skin slapping against skin soon filled the room as they rutted against each other in wild abandon, leaving bruises and scratches in their trail to ecstasy. He does not remember much of it, just the feeling of being helpless and all-powerful at the same time, rolling around on the bed, trying to overpower the other. He doesn't remember much except the very clear picture of her arched form, above him like a goddess, eyes closed and mouth open in pleasure as waves of contentment rolled ever her and only then was he allowed to let the pleasure overcame him and free himself, buried deep inside her heat

* * *

Many years later, she had married Elizabeth, in her brother's name. She usually got Elizabeth drunk enough during their foreplay to believe that her husband was taking her to bed when really it was her butler. She would watch him rut above of the blonde sweaty and arching body with a blank face. He would not have the right to touch the earl the same night he touched her wife. Really, it was a practical arrangement.

The day she finally achieved her goal and completed her revenge was a brilliant, sunny morning. No dramatics needed. It was a messy and bloody affair, and Ciel enjoyed every second of it. She loved it but now, that she has no hatred to cling to, she just felt empty and void. There was nothing left for her –well nothing real, unlike her love for Sebastian. He would not be Sebastian anymore after that, anyway.

"Will you forget me after this?"

She asked him, that same night, naked and vulnerable in a way that she hated herself for.

"I wish I could, mistress."

She gave him a pointed look but didn't say anything. She wasn't Ciel anymore, nor was she the Earl or Viviane. She was just tired.

"Will you ever be able to love after this?"

He did not answer. He knew that she knew. This love was forced upon him but he still felt it.

"No."

He hissed through his teeth and she laughed at him. Sebastian's hand flew to her throat but like each time, the hate he truly felt took over, he felt guilty. That girl had cursed him with that command so many years ago.

She smiled even as she was half strangled because even after her death, she would never be powerless. The demon would never forget her and she'd always influence him. It was cruel of her, yes, but she need it. After the cage, the humiliation, the red eyes watching her even after that, she needed to feel power coursing through her veins. And having a man, a beast like that love her? Having him worship the ground, she walked on even if he hated her? That was the bloody heroin of power.

"Good."

He crushed his lips to hers with passion, mercilessly abusing her lips, leaving them bruised. It was one of those rare times when neither of them dominated the other. Just raw passion and fire fuelling their entire beings.

"I can make it quick if you want"

She merely shook her head, looking at him straight in the eyes.

"No, I want it to hurt. I want my death to be as gruesome and horrible as my life."

She put her hand on his cheek, tender despite the poison in her voice.

"You're going to make it hurt and live knowing you ended my life in the most atrocious of ways."

After a pause, she added.

"It's an order."

He closed her eyes, got on top of her, voice as cold, and delighted as the first day she heard it. He was cold, cold as death.

He smirked slightly. They were back at the very beginning and even in the pain, he was glad that his eternity would never be the same dull pain it had been. He kissed her one last time. She tasted bittersweet on lips, like acidic candy.

" _ **Yes, my lady."**_

* * *

 _ **It's finnaly over! I'm so sorry for all of those who followed my writting exercises for this story x) But I'm finnaly happy to present you "A path to damnation", completed and polished!**_


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